His Traitorous Lips
by EarthAngelGirl30
Summary: The lady Sif is feeling hurt and rejected after Thor turns down her offer of taking a drink. But perhaps there is someone else whom she might be interested in taking a drink with... Loki is languishing in his prison cell, struggling to come to terms with what has happened to him, when he receives a most unexpected visitor. This is a one chapter lemon about how the Goddess of War


Self pity was not a feeling the goddess of war was particularly well accustomed to.

She was a shield maiden, a warrior; strong fierce and proud. So finding herself outside, stood leaning against the balcony alone whilst her fellow warriors and companions celebrated their most recent victory against the marauders on Vanaheim, was a startling realisation for her.

Usually she would be joining in with the revelry, enjoying herself and making the most of the opportunity to let her hair down...quite literally as well as figuratively.

Yet, here she was. Fighting the bitter disappointment she felt. Struggling to contain her emotions due to the alcohol, as under normal circumstances she was well adept at keeping her feelings well hidden. But after having drank a little too much, her composure was crumbling.

To the untrained eye, no one would notice that two of the most prominent figures in the house of Odin were absent from the festivities.

Herself being the first, having taken herself off outside and the second being Thor. The mighty Odinson.

Yes, he too had once been the life and soul of the party. But no longer. Times had changed. They had all grown in many ways, but Thor's change in behaviour was accredited to his entanglement with the Midgardian woman. Jane Foster. Her very name almost made Sif want to wretch.

Since she had been in Thor's life, Sif had not only lost her lifelong companion, she had also lost any hope of ever rekindling the romance the pair had once shared in their youth. Albeit only having been a brief relationship, Sif had continued to carry a small flame for the Thunderer ever since. Though she would never show it...

...that is until tonight. And she cursed herself for allowing her alcohol-fuelled emotions to get the better of her.

She'd asked him to take a drink with her. A simple and innocent enough invitation, but at the back of her temporarily impaired mind, she had hoped that if he accepted, then the invitation may have also extended to something not so innocent.

But he had flatly refused. Politely declining her offer, in favour of sloping off to Heimdall's observatory on the bifrost, as he did most evenings in order to brood over his beloved mortal, like a lovesick adolescent.

It was quite pathetic. But what was even more so, was the way in which Sif was handling his rejection. She simply wasn't handling it.

At all.

Taking a deep breath in order to suppress a sob, she stared out across the skyline of Asgard, through teary eyes. The millions of twinkling lights, illuminating the city in all it's golden splendour, merged together as her vision blurred.

Blinking the tears away, she scanned the horizon, and suddenly came to rest on the large darkened building, which lay to the far North of the palace.

The prisons. Unlike the shining spires and domes of the other structures which were bathed in a celestial glow, this place was in stark contrast. It was almost like an architectural representation of it's inhabitants; dark, ominous and foreboding.

It was then, she suddenly found herself thinking of one of it's most notorious inhabitants. Yet another once prominent figure within the palace before his fall from grace.

Loki.

His presence certainly wasn't missed. And even back in the glory days, he was never a particularly popular member of the royal household.

Unlike his brother, he had always been far more reserved; choosing to spend his free time in the library pouring over ancient texts, deciphering runes and practising his sorcery.

Even before the revelations about his adoption and true parentage came to light, Sif had often found herself pondering over how completely different the two brothers were. Thor was loud, and often rash. Loki was quiet and calculating. He was the brain, Thor was the brawn. They were like hate and love. Worlds apart. Like dark and light.

Loki had always been somewhat overshadowed by Thor, which undoubtedly made him insanely jealous. In fact, it had probably been no coincidence that Loki had chosen to wreak havoc on earth; the planet which was home to Thor's precious mortal. Perhaps he had intentionally set his sights on gaining control of the realm which his brother had sworn to protect in order to vex him further. And since his imprisonment, Thor had now completely turned his back on him.

It was then that a despicable thought suddenly crept into her alcohol-fuddled mind. It was so abhorrent, it made her feel guilty for even allowing herself to think of such a thing...

...She wanted to seek revenge on Thor, for the way he'd disregarded her so easily. And what better way to do so, than consorting with the enemy?

At first she rapidly dismissed the idea. Contact with Loki was strictly forbidden, and besides fraternising with a traitor went against her strict moral code. She despised him for what he had done. For the chaos he had brought upon the realm she'd sworn an oath to protect.

But...the more she thought about it, the more tempted she was to throw caution to the wind and pay the trickster a visit.

He was conniving, devious and staggeringly intelligent. Perhaps he could assist her in devising a plan to sabotage Thor's relationship with Jane.

Her sober self, would never have contemplated such a thing. But she was angry, desperate, lonely and most certainly not sober.

Meanwhile, far across the kingdom, Loki was lay on his narrow bed; struggling to find some comfort.

The lights in the prisons were on a timer, which he found most inconvenient and irritating, as their harsh glare prevented him from sleeping.

Turning from one side to another, he buried his face in his pillows and sighed in exasperation.

This truly was torture. Being confined like a fish in a bowl.

He missed the light of day, and the glow of the moonlight. The simplest things in life of which he'd previously taken for granted, he was now heartsick for. What he wouldn't give to feel the warmth of the sun on his face, and to hear the nightingale sing once more in the wood.

And physical contact...he longed for that the most.

But this was to be his fate now. He was destined to rot in this confined space.

Asgardians lived for many years, and it already felt as if he'd served an eternity in this cell. He had no doubt about it, that he would most certainly go mad before he died. Death would have been a kinder alternative. In fact, he would gladly welcome it now.

The more he dwelled upon his circumstances, the further into depression he sank.

And quite frequently, such as tonight, torturing himself with thoughts of the outside world brought on feelings of claustrophobia.

Unable to catch his breath as his chest tightened, his fists balled into the sheets; the walls were closing in on him again. Suffocating him.

Distracted by his panic attack, his usually sharp senses did not detect the approach of a guard outside his cell.

And when the gruff voice called out to him abruptly, it actually startled him.

"Laufeyson, there is a package for you."

Whipping his head around, Loki hurriedly wiped the sweat from his brow, and desperately fought to steady his breathing.

Swinging his long leather-clad legs off the bed, he swiftly rose; regaining his composure, and sauntered towards the periphery of the cell.

"Is it not a little late in the day for packages to be arriving?"

He pointed out to the burly-looking guard,

"Never before has..."

His words trailed off as a second figure suddenly stepped out of the shadows and into view, slowly lowering the hood on her silvery-blue cloak in order to reveal her identity.

Loki's surprise was clearly visible on his slim face, as he recognised Sif. But he never spoke a word.

Clutching two dusty old books in her hand, she turned to the guard and indicated towards Loki's cell with a mere nod of the head.

The guard's large brow furrowed deeply as he registered her meaning,

"You-you wish to go inside my lady?"

Without speaking she simply nodded slowly in response.

"In there?"

He asked again, his voice filled with uncertainty,

"I strongly advise against it, I cannot vouch for your safety-"

"These books have been sent by her majesty, and her instructions were to deliver them directly into the prisoners own hands..."

Sif spoke at last, her tone firm and unwavering,

"...I will carry out my orders, now kindly permit me to enter."

Bowing benevolently, the guard obediently stepped off to one side in order to access the control panel,

"Forgive me, my lady."

He fumbled around for a moment before the powerful force field which acted as the barrier to keep Loki and all of his magical abilities contained, flickered off. Thus enabling Sif to step up into the cell.

As soon as she had crossed the threshold, the power was flipped back on.

Loki stood before her now, a mere few feet away. His piercing emerald eyes surveying her curiously.

"Leave us."

Sif ordered to the guard, who appeared absolutely horrified by such a suggestion.

"My lady, this prisoner is highly dangerous and I-"

"I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself."

She replied curtly, shooting him a look which had the desired affect.

Dipping his head in a small bow, he withdrew,

"As you wish my lady."

Sif watched him leave, before finally turning to look back at the disgraced prince.

Dressed in a smart, dark green tunic and three quarter length black gilet, he looked every bit as suave as she remembered. His pale angular features reminding her just how handsome he was, with his high arched cheekbones and straight lined nose. His shiny shoulder length raven hair was combed back neatly, and his familiar musky-sweet scent smelt alarmingly delectable.

It was a pity, she found herself thinking, that he was so detestable.

"My my, Sif. This is an unexpected pleasure..."

His smooth velvety-seductive voice was enough to cause goosebumps to rise on her arms,

"...you look ravishing."

Feeling suddenly self conscious in her midnight-blue satin gown, Sif struggled to keep her stoic expression in place.

Perhaps she should have changed into her armour before coming here. She felt inexplicably exposed and vulnerable now in his presence without her usual warrior attire.

His powerful domineering demeanour oozed confidence, and despite her skills as a shield maiden she still found him intimidating.

"Do not waste your breath silver tongue.."

She responded curtly,

"...I am not interested in your false flattery."

Tilting his head to one side, he raised a pointed eyebrow,

"Why are you here? After all this time, you of all people. Have you come to gloat? To mock?"

Raising the books she clutched in her hands as an indication, she proffered them to him.

He closed the distance between them with two strides of his long legs. Making her feel slightly oppressed as he loomed over her, he reached out slowly and took them from her trembling hands.

Their fingers brushed briefly, which had a subtle electrifying affect, like a small spark of static electricity.

She quickly dismissed it, though could not help wondering if he had felt it too.

Glancing down at the books, his eyes soon snapped back to hers, a mischievous glint evident in them,

"Interesting choice."

He remarked, raising one of them aloft, and Sif's eyes widened in shock when she saw the title of the Kama Sutra; complete with an explicit illustration on the cover.

"I did not...I mean, that was not amongst the books I collected!"

She cried, her face burning like a brand.

A wicked smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as he waved his other hand over it; dispersing the illusion he'd cast, returning it to it's original state,

"That was just a bit of fun really."

"Do not play games with me Loki!"

She warned,

"I am in no humour tonight to be subjected to your trickery."

His smirk vanished, leaving his face completely blank and unreadable; giving nothing away,

"Then do not insult my intelligence madam. If you expect me to believe that Frigga has sent you here personally in order to fetch me more books, then you're as big a fool as the rest of them."

Holding his gaze, she forced a defiant smile,

"Your sharp wits have not waned any during your incarceration I see."

"Regardless of your reasons, you are still a fool to come here..."

He hissed menacingly,

"...what is to stop me from killing you? You are completely at my mercy, so it is unwise to vex me."

Sif reached a slender arm into her cloak, and Loki reacted swiftly by abruptly catching hold of her by the wrist, dropping the books in the process.

"Unhand me this instant trickster!"

She snapped, shoving him hard in the chest with her free hand,

"I have no weapon concealed."

Still clutching her dainty wrist in his vice-like grip, Loki's eyes bored into her fiercely,

"And tell me why I ought to believe you?"

"Because, if I wanted you dead then you would not stop me!"

She fired back.

They eyed each other's glare for a moment, until he loosened his hold, and she wrenched her arm from him before reaching into her cloak again.

And he could scarcely believe his eyes when she pulled out a large bottle of the finest, most potent Asgardian ale.

"Take a drink with me?"

She asked, though her tone made the request sound more like a demand.

A slow smile crept across his face,

"And how am I to know the contents aren't poisoned?"

"I am an honourable warrior Loki, not an assassin."

"Perhaps...but you would do anything for your beloved Asgard, would you not? So if given the command to dispose of me in such an underhanded way, you would follow Odin's orders."

"I am disobeying orders by being here..."

She pointed out bluntly,

"...but if I were to dispose of you, you know I'd much sooner run you through with my blade than play such games."

Choosing to ignore the way he regarded her suspiciously, she glanced around the room, scanning for something to pour the ale into,

"Fetch me a cup and I shall prove that the drink is not laced with poison."

Slowly, Loki bent down to retrieve the books from the floor, then turned and headed towards the table which stood in the corner.

Placing the books down, he exchanged them for a goblet, then hesitated momentarily as if contemplating her proposition.

"That won't be necessary."

He informed her finally, after a lengthy pause.

Chancing a small smile, Sif strode towards him purposefully; feigning confidence whilst using one hand to unclasp her cloak,

"So it is settled? You shall drink with me Loki?"

"What if I choose to decline?"

He remarked flatly.

"Why would you?"

She retorted,

"It's not as though you have any prior engagements, is it?"

Making a face, Loki feigned injury now rather than anger,

"You wound me Sif..."

His tone was mocking and she could see the mischief dancing in his eyes,

"...but it would seem evident by your presence here that neither do you."

Sif visibly bristled at his words, causing him immense satisfaction and he could not resist taunting her further,

"You must be truly desperate to come to me seeking company."

Handing her the goblet, she snatched it from him roughly,

"On the contrary, I merely thought you might like to partake in the victory celebrations."

Taking a tankard for himself, he scoffed openly at her,

"Even if there were an element of truth to your words, why would I wish to engage in celebrating the fact that the nine worlds still stand? I'd be more inclined to celebrate seeing Asgard burn."

"That is because you are a despicable wretch."

She stated bluntly, as she poured them both a drink.

"Yet, here you are. Paying me a social visit no less."

He grinned at her crookedly, and she had to resist the urge to wipe the smug expression from his face.

"Do not mistake my kindness for fondness sly one."

"I would not be so presumptuous my lady."

"Good, because I despise you."

She proclaimed, before taking a sip from the goblet.

Loki snickered in response, then took a huge glug of his ale; savouring it's bitter-sweet malty taste and the way in which it warmed his throat.

He could not remember the last time he'd drank ale, and it did not take long for the strength of the alcohol to take affect; his guard began to drop, rendering him more relaxed than he would usually have been.

The pair sat for sometime in awkward silence as they drank. Her perched on the only chair that he had, whilst he sat casually on his bed; his lithe legs crossed in front of him.

They were halfway through the bottle when at long last he spoke, shattering the tense silence.

"So, are you going to tell me now what really brings you here, or are we to wait until you're utterly inebriated before you have the courage to speak plainly?"

Sif was about to reproach him, but realised there was no point in continuing to argue with the man she was intending to seek assistance from.

Taking a deep breath, she affixed her eyes on the floor; the humiliation she felt was too great to look him in the face. She could not quite bring herself to do it.

"I...I wish to discuss a matter of some delicacy with you."

She stammered,

"...but it is of a somewhat sensitive nature."

Leaning forward now, his curiosity piqued by her words, he encouraged her to continue,

"Go on."

Taking a deep breath, she brought the rim of the goblet up to her lips in a desperate attempt to hide from his intense gaze,

"I seek your advice, and possibly your assistance...there is someone I am eager to be rid of-"

"I am no assassin either Sif..."

He interjected sharply, cutting her off mid-sentence,

"...and even if I were, what would you have me do? Slay the unfortunate individual because you lack the gaul to do it yourself?"

"No, I do not want her dead!"

She cried,

"Merely out of the way...you are a master of deception and cunning. I thought perhaps you might provide me with some suggestions on how to devise a plan."

Swinging his legs off the bed in order to sit on it's edge, he leaned forwards, clearly intrigued,

"So it's a female rival. Who in Asgard could possibly provoke such feelings of animosity and resentment from the well respected lady warrior? So much so it would warrant you conspiring to rid yourself of her?"

She could feel his eyes scrutinising her face closely, and she shifted awkwardly beneath the weight of his emerald orbs.

She was about to speak again, when she saw a look of recognition dawn, and his expression darkened.

"Don't tell me this is about that woman?"

He barked accusingly,

"That insignificant mortal?"

Stealthy as a cat, he jumped to his feet so abruptly the bed clattered as he almost tipped it over due to his brusque movements.

She watched wide eyed as he began pacing the room slowly; his agitation growing with every step he took.

"And why does this perplex you so? I would have thought you'd be eager for revenge...and by driving the human away, this would bring Thor grief. Surely you would delight in his suffering."

"Oh yes, he would be most grieved. And no doubt you would offer him comfort, your shoulder to cry on...and your bed to warm him."

He mocked, his tone sardonic.

"How dare you be so lewd. You have not the slightest idea of that which you speak."

"Do not lecture me about lewdness, you hypocrite!"

He spat, halting abruptly in order to glare at her,

"You brazenly covet the mighty Odin son. You always have. And for what other reason would you want his precious Midgardian gone, other than to make the two-backed beast with him?"

Rising to her feet, she threw her empty goblet onto the floor in temper,

"Has it ever occurred to you that some of us act out of love? Not just lust. And there is more to life than the acquisition of power!"

"Lust is passion, passion is power and power is real. Love is nothing more than an illusion. A lie, borne of childish need."

He growled,

"And why would you still waste your affections on that dull brute, even now after all this time? He will never return your love Sif."

Rounding on him now, Sif impaled him with her stare,

"You speak so knowingly of love yet you clearly have never experienced the emotion for yourself. I might have known there was no ability to love in your brittle heart."

Her hands went to her hips and he could not help following her motion with his eyes, allowing himself to take in the way her gown clung to her soft curves. Cursing himself silently, he did his best to ignore the subtle stirring he felt deep within his loins. He'd obviously been too long without a woman. Without physical contact. Without passion.

"What of Karnilla the Norn queen? Amora the enchantress, and her wicked sister Lorelei?..."

Sif continued, oblivious to the unwanted lustful thoughts he was experiencing, as she reeled off the names of some of his ex lovers,

"...did you love none of them?"

"My past conquests are no concern of yours."

He replied tersely.

"Is that all they were to you? Notches on your gilded bedpost?"

She accused, seeing his jaw perceptibly tighten as she spoke,

"You bedded them all, then cast them aside cruelly once they had succumbed to your charms."

Taking a step closer to her, Loki's lip curled in a twisted sneer,

"Your naivety and ignorance is staggering. Has it not occurred to you that perhaps they seduced me? For your information lady Sif, they desired me and relentlessly pursued me until I gave them what they wanted."

Swallowing hard, Sif felt her face flush at the sudden unwanted thought of his prowess in the bedchamber.

Indeed he had quite the reputation, gossip had been rife in the house of Odin for many years in relation to him being a notoriously skilled lover.

Sif on the other hand, had only ever bedded two men in all her life; one of which was her beloved Thor. And that had only happened once, during their brief courtship. The other had been Holdur, a guard who had served only to help her forget the former.

After being left feeling quite dejected and underwhelmed by her experiences, she had then begun her training as a shield maiden, which stipulated the relinquishing of all men until marriage.

"I am not a wanton whore, unlike your former mistresses.."

She was saying now, in an attempt to convince him of her honest intentions,

"If I were to succeed in capturing Thor's interest again, then I would not give myself to him unless we were married."

"Capture his interest.."

He repeated, his pointed eyebrows raised in astonishment,

"Just listen to yourself Sif. Have you no self respect or dignity? You should not have to chase him, or compete for the attentions of any man."

"As you said to me Loki, my relationships are of no concern to you!"

"By the gods, you truly are desperate for that slow-witted oaf's affections aren't you? So much so that I'd wager you would break your vow of chastity in order to have his lumbering, sweaty carcass labouring over you at night."

"That is enough!"

She brought her hand up and slapped him hard across the face. So fierce was the force of it, his head snapped back violently as she struck him.

Raising a hand to his reddened cheek, instead of reacting angrily he threw her completely by smiling wolfishly at her,

"You're fiery Sif..."

He crooned,

"...I like that."

Blushing ferociously, she made to slap him again but this time he caught hold of her hand in his; entwining his slender fingers through her own and pulled her to him, causing her to exhale shakily.

"Thor is a fool. You outshine his mortal by far, and you could have any man you desired."

Incensed by his actions, and the intimacy of his gesture, she struggled against him. But his words had hit a raw nerve.

"I neither need nor want your pity Loki!"

She yelled, but her voice threatened to crack with emotion.

"Pity!"

He exclaimed, gently grasping her chin between the thumb and forefinger of his free hand. He tilted her face upwards, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Is this pity?"

Before she knew what was happening, he lowered his head and pressed his thin lips to hers.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she had to fight to suppress a small squeal. She couldn't understand why she wasn't shoving him away and recoiling in horror. She knew she should be disgusted and infuriated by his actions, but his deep kiss had ignited a fire within her belly, causing a wave of heat to wash over her. It was a feeling she hadn't experienced in a very long time...desire.

Surrendering herself to his advances, she found herself kissing him back eagerly, but no sooner had she responded when suddenly he broke away; leaving her breathless and hungry for more.

To her disappointment, he turned away abruptly and crossed over to the opposite side of the cell.

"You ought to leave now."

He announced, somewhat breathlessly.

Feeling incredibly confused, she did not attempt to hide her frustration, having now been rejected twice in one night.

"I do not understand you Loki. You dare be so bold as to kiss me, then in the next instant you attempt to dismiss me...why?"

She demanded, approaching him from behind,

"We might be seen."

He replied simply.

But she was not convinced.

"You are a master of magic, can you not conjure some illusion to prevent the guards from observing us?"

She demanded.

"Is that what you wish me to do?"

He challenged.

"I grow tired of these games Loki, answer me plainly!"

"In that case, I am not falling victim to whatever game you are playing..."

He hissed, the irritation audible in his smooth voice,

"...I refuse to become an unwitting pawn for you to use in some pathetic attempt to make Thor jealous, or as an act of revenge against him...there, is that plain enough?"

He could feel her eyes burning into the back of his head.

But the truth was, as much as he desired the shield maiden he had no desire to be used. He knew in his heart that any dalliance with her would no doubt leave him all churned up inside and wanting more.

"Do not flatter yourself trickster..."

Sif was now saying, her tone filled with indignation,

"..how dare you presume that I would even be willing to fraternise with you in such a way."

Despite herself, she suddenly found the prospect of flirting with such danger thrilling. And she hated herself for it. Surely it had to be the alcohol impairing her judgement.

Turning to look at her from over his shoulder, he shot her a withering look,

"I presume nothing, but your actions betray you Sif...you gave in to my kiss a little too willingly. I would have at least expected a little resistance."

Her hands balled into fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The urge to strike him again was overwhelming, yet somehow she managed to keep her temper.

"You truly are a vile, loathsome wretch."

"And I love you too Sif."

He sniggered, his tone tinged with playful sarcasm

Unbeknownst to him, his words suddenly caused her heart to leap out of her chest. Why this was, she could not quite comprehend. And she wasn't willing to explore the possibilities.

"But you do not believe in love, only lust or passion. So prove it."

She challenged, forcing a tight smile.

"And how would you have me do so?"

"However you see fit."

He registered the way in which her expression had changed. Softening considerably, her fury seemed to have been replaced by something else...want.

Perhaps this wasn't just drunken banter after all.

She stared back at him with her beautiful face and soft full lips that begged to be kissed, the longing clearly visible in her large expressive eyes.

She wanted him. He was certain he could sense it, and it caused a surging heat to course through his veins, as if a primal instinct was battling against his usually cool demeanour.

He cursed himself inwardly for his weakness. Never before had he felt such maddening desire for a wench.

Turning to face her, he eyed her steadily through half-closed eyelids, and despite being fully clothed she felt as if he were stripping her bare with his hungry eyes. His wolfish grin, exposing his teeth and the tip of his tongue put her in mind of a feral animal that was surveying it's prey. And when he spoke his voice had now dropped to a deep whisper,

"What did you really come here for Sif?"

Swallowing hard, she struggled to find her voice, but could not even think of an appropriate reply.

She found herself now fighting temptation. She despised Loki, didn't she? Yet here she was contemplating the unthinkable. He was undeniably attractive and his charisma irresistible to most women. But Sif wasn't most women. She had always been immune to his charms, but not tonight. Tonight she wasn't a warrior, she was a woman first. She'd had a taste of him and now she wanted more. Much more. A mere sample would not suffice. And what harm would one more kiss do? She reasoned with herself.

"You know what you truly want, and I think I know why you're here..."

He rasped,

"...if you're honest with yourself, you know that I can give you what you need."

In that instant she didn't know what came over her but she flew at him with a speed and determination which she usually reserved for the battlefield. Crossing the room in a blur, there was no pause, no decision to be made, and no slow approach. Enough time had already been wasted.

Gripping the front of his gilet tightly in her small hands, she pressed her petite body against his tall one and strained upwards, intent on consuming his mouth. Their lips collided; meeting each other urgently, his previous brief kiss had been soft and gentle, but now his lips were brutalising hers with surprising ferocity and a passion that she found highly arousing.

Moving in a frenzy he whirled her around, pushing her backwards as they continued to lock lips, until she met with the table behind her. She leaned back onto it as he lowered her down, his upper body followed; bearing her back against it's surface, sending it's contents scattering and crashing to the floor.

Revelling in his heat, and the feel of her bosom pushing against the solid wall of his chest, she reached her hands up to tousle her fingers through his dark mane. And as she parted her lips, allowing his velvet tongue to enter her warm mouth, she found herself twisting and pulling on his hair in desperation.

He tasted sweet; like honey and mint, with a hint of the alcohol he'd consumed, and their tongues probed and explored each other tentatively as their passions heightened.

She didn't want the moment to end, her heart was fluttering in her chest which was aflame for him, and when his lips finally left hers in order to run a trail of hot open-mouthed kisses along her neck, she instantly mourned their loss but delighted in the new tingling sensations they created.

Burying his face against the curve of her shoulder, his lips glided downwards, downwards, until they reached the top of her gown.

His hands, which had been hovering by her sides, now set about removing this most inconvenient barrier.

She gasped as she felt the tug on the satin material, followed by cool air, and then his lips ghosting over the swell of her breast.

The outside world had long since ceased to exist; his cell and their surroundings fell out of focus and became utterly insignificant as his lips closed over her nipple; kissing and suckling it so that it rose to greet his glorious skilled mouth.

It was taking every fraction of his self restraint to keep from ravaging her on the spot. The fierce heat which pumped through his veins, stirred his arousal further. But he wanted to savour the moment, relishing every touch and taste whilst simultaneously bringing the goddess of war to her knees...if not literally then figuratively.

Her grip on his hair tightened painfully but spurred him on, and he boldly reached down and slid a hand beneath the hem of her gown.

A stifled moan escaped her lips as it made contact with her leg, running his large palm up her trembling thigh.

Her own hands went to his broad shoulders; grasping at his clothing.

"Take these off Loki..."

She begged, tugging at his tunic impatiently,

"..I want to see you , touch you, and feel you against me."

Halting, he looked up at her with his passion-filled eyes. He slipped the gilet off and then raised his arms, peeling the tunic over his head, flinging it aside. She stared at him, her eyes wide in awe; marvelling at the sight of what had for so long been concealed from her.

Running her hands up and across his chest, she thought she heard the breath hitch in his throat.

It certainly had in hers. Had she known all those years what lay hidden beneath the leather and plate armour he wore, she would never have gotten a moments rest.

He was sculpted and so beautiful. His pale skin like marble, bore the etchings of solid abdominal muscle and his chest was well-defined and smooth.

Turning his attentions back to her, he wasted no time in pulling the delicate fabric of her gown lower still. He seemed intent on exposing her completely, which both thrilled and terrified her in equal measures.

"Wait Loki, no.."

She managed weakly

But her protests came too late, as using both hands on either side of the garment, he all but ripped it from her.

Disentangling it from her athletic legs, he discarded it onto the floor whilst his eyes roved over her form in adoration, revelling in her nudity.

Painfully aware of her nakedness, her cheeks flamed scarlet with embarrassment. She also felt incredibly vulnerable now, and shifted awkwardly beneath the heat of his gaze. She clumsily crossed her hands in a vain attempt to cover her sex, but taking hold of her hands, he held them firmly out of the way.

"Do not do that.."

He exclaimed hoarsely,

"..let me see you."

Blinking rapidly, she dared to chance a look at him and was stunned by all the different emotions she saw in his eyes; lust, passion, concern, adoration, erotic desire and...something else, that could easily be mistaken for love, but that wasn't possible. Was it?

No one, neither Holdur or Thor had ever looked at her like this.

She was magnificent; her long dark brown hair fanned out across the surface of the table, her brown eyes full and deep, locked on his, and her mouth, red and open and inviting.

In the next instant, he dropped onto his knees before her; his hands roaming across her soft skin before coming to rest at her breasts, whilst simultaneously kissing her midriff.

"You are beautiful Sif.."

He whispered against her skin, sending shivers along her spine,

"..you deserve to be worshipped like the goddess you are."

Her heart swelled at his words. Her eyes closed, and she moaned softly as he teased her breasts with his deft fingers and planted gentle kisses down her navel; feathering up and down while she urged him on by digging her fingernails into his lean back.

She could easily become addicted to this. To him. He alone had the ability to set her senses alight, and she adored the way he looked at her as if she were the only woman in the entire nine realms.

Reality suddenly hit as she realised what his intentions were, as he moved lower, and lower...edging further South, his hair tickling her stomach as he went.

"L-Loki...wait,.."

She stammered, her breathing growing increasingly shallow,

"...that is too bold...and such an intimate act is strictly forbidden,"

"Sorry Sif."

He breathed apologetically,

"But forbidden fruit has the sweetest taste."

Placing his hands firmly on each of her knees, he forced them apart and wedged himself in between.

"Stop it!"

She gasped,

"You're mad!"

"Possibly."

He rasped, his voice husky with need.

Twisting and turning in an attempt to escape him, she felt the panic rise as he settled between her legs and lowered his head...and then..

"Oh Gods!"

She cried out, unsure if she'd thought or spoken the words as she almost jumped out of her own skin.

She grasped at his arms urgently, and writhed against him as he nuzzled into her most intimate area.

She felt greatly ashamed of herself for finding it enjoyable, but any resistance she'd previously shown was swept away on the tidal wave of pleasure that threatened to drown her.

His expert, teasing licks caused a sweet maddening tension to spread throughout her body, making her feel like an utter fool for having abstained from indulging in such carnal pleasure all these years.

The fluttering dips caused her to tremble all over and her need for release pushed her to what felt like the edge of insanity.

A low growl escaped his lips and reverberated against her as he lapped at her greedily. Her hands gripped his arms so tightly she thought she might've drawn blood with her nails, as she pressed herself against his hot mouth.

Muttering pleas of desperation, she felt certain she would snap under the pressure of the tightening. Her back bowed as he held her firmly in place so that she couldn't escape the pleasure. Or him, as with the softest nudge of the tip of his tongue, he skilfully pushed her into sweet oblivion.

Crying out for him, as her entire body shook, Loki released her from his clench and ceased his tantalising assault. He watched her transfixed, his own arousal now reaching fever pitch.

As if sensing this, Sif suddenly and quite unexpectedly clamped her hands down on his shoulders in an attempt to hoist him to stand. He complied, allowing her to pull him upwards, guiding her along her body, as she urged him to lie atop her.

"Still not satisfied my lady?"

He purred, smiling at her sinfully.

"You are wicked..."

She panted,

"...but gods help me, I want you Loki."

And her admittance was true. She wanted more, so much more. More of him. More of this and them. In spite of it being forbidden, she was too far gone now. She'd strayed too far down this deliciously sinful path and she couldn't turn back now. Not without having him. She wanted them to conjoin, to feel him inside her and see him come apart and know that they had done this together.

Leaning above her, he now surged downwards and caught her in a deep kiss. One that made her heart flutter and set her body aflame.

She arched into him, bringing her breasts into contact with his bare chest. He moaned into her mouth as they kissed; a clear indication that he found the sensation tantalising, which was a heady feeling for Sif. Knowing that she held some power over this dominant man.

As she pressed herself to him, she felt the unmistakable bulge at his groin, and envisaged his manhood straining against the material that contained it; those irksome leather trousers which prevented her from gaining access. Overcome with the need to touch him, to really feel him, she ran her hands along his stomach; feeling his muscles tighten in anticipation as her fingers came to hover above his waistband.

He broke from the kiss in order to take a sharp intake of breath, her hands fumbling frantically with his buttons was driving him to breaking point, he was close to abandoning all restraint...he needed to take her. Roughly and gently, and in every way. He wanted to fill her, to take possession of her exquisite body and satisfy her every need.

"Shall we not move somewhere a little more appropriate?"

He managed through clenched teeth, as she practically tore open his pants, and forced them down just enough to allow his erection to spring free.

Sif was not listening. She was far too distracted to focus on anything other than straining to see. She caught a glimpse of his large shaft and had to suppress a gasp. Gently she took him in her hand, causing Loki to throw his head back and groan appreciatively. He felt hard and heavy in her hand, and as she began moving her wrist back and forth; working him rhythmically, she could feel him harden further, throbbing against her palm.

Sparks shot through his body, and he had to fight to keep control. If he didn't sate his amorous craving for her soon he was at risk of losing coherency and coming undone.

"Enough!"

He choked, pushing her hand away roughly.

No longer caring about the inconvenience of coupling against a table, he ranked between her trembling thighs, sucking in a deep breath.

Sif found herself holding her breath in anticipation. She was about to break her vows, to sully herself with Asgard's most notorious traitor. But as she braced herself for his imminent penetration, any doubts she had was overruled by insatiable lust.

She felt his length probing at her slick entrance, and bit her lip nervously.

He nudged gently, pushing into her maddeningly slowly, inching further and further, until he could bear it no longer and with one brutal thrust he entered her fiercely; implanting himself as deeply as possible, and the ferocity of it caused her to cry out in shock.

He immediately froze for a moment, so as to give her time to recover. He placed a large hand at her hip to steady her and ensure that neither of them moved.

Her dark eyes rounded and locked on his.

Without breaking eye contact he slowly began moving; pushing and retracting gently. The initial pain began to fade, and although it wasn't completely comfortable, the overwhelming sensation of having him moving inside her was deliciously distracting. She could feel every inch of him impaling her in agonising bliss, unable to tell where he began and she ended.

She saw his face contort as she eagerly began rocking her pelvis back and forth, matching his pumping motion. Spurred on by her enthusiasm, he propped himself up on one elbow; forcing their bodies closer as he increased his pace.

The familiar heat and inimitable tension began stirring once more, so she grasped him by his narrow hips and urged him to drive into her harder. He was more than willing to comply, and soon they were grinding against each other lustfully; their breathing hampered and their pulses racing.

"I breath you.."

He whispered raggedly against her ear,

"You're everything. You're the air."

Completely lost in the moment, Sif brought her slender legs up; crossing them at the ankle behind him, enabling him to push deeper, whilst wrapping her arms around his back so that all of her limbs encircled him tightly. Trapping him to her. She never wanted to be without him.

"I'll give you anything Loki, my body, my soul, take them they are yours. You can have it all. Take everything."

Her eyes had long since flickered shut, losing her senses to him completely. He felt so utterly divine she couldn't refrain from expressing herself vocally, as she began to groan with every thrust. He rewarded her by skilfully moving his pelvis in a tight circle, the rotation of which she felt deep inside her and she thought she might come apart as he held her.

"Look at me Sif.."

He demanded gruffly.

It took a great amount of effort to prise open her heavy lids, but she obeyed his command. Focusing on his perfect features, now shimmering with sweat as he gazed down upon her.

"..Keep your eyes on me, I want to see you as you come undone."

The intensity of his voice matched his expression, as he returned to his previous thrusting motion; hitting just the right spot in order to send her hurtling towards ecstasy once again.

Her hands slid down the tensing muscles in his back to his taut behind, smoothing over the curve of his perfectly formed rear, feeling his rhythmic thrusting beneath her touch.

Her moans turned to cries of ecstasy as the surging heat she had felt building erupted. The sublime intensity of her climax ripped through her body; wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her veins, causing her to spasm and shake beneath him.

The sound of a guttural moan escaped Loki's mouth, which served to pull her focus back to him. Sensing his impending release as she felt him contract within her, the sudden overwhelming urge to be in control of him prompted her to act swiftly and with spontaneity.

"Wait! Loki stop!"

She managed, barely coherent herself,

"We are not done."

His dark brows drew together in confusion, at her attempt to shove him off of her.

"What are you doing?"

He panted, his tone tinged with bewilderment and indignation.

"The bed, I want you on the bed."

She insisted, prompting him to withdraw.

"Isn't it a little late for that now? When I suggested it earlier you dismissed me."

He argued defiantly, but begrudgingly complied by lifting himself from her.

It took every ounce of strength in her to stand on her shaky legs, whilst pushing him to move hastily towards his narrow bed.

Forcing him down onto it, she wasted no time in straddling his hips whilst she pushed him to recline on his back.

"I'm preparing myself to forgive you."

He quipped, as she positioned herself atop him.

He surged forwards, kissing between her breasts; before enveloping the sensitive nub of her left nipple in his mouth.

She gasped at the dual erotic sensations of having his sweet traitorous lips at her bosom, and his hard shaft throbbing against her core.

She sensed his urgency, and mercilessly teased him by delaying entrance. She wanted to drive him mad with want, and set his senses alight like he did to her.

However her teasing merely stirred her own arousal.

Lowering herself onto him painstakingly slowly, he muttered an expletive which dissolved into a low groan.

His emerald orbs stared up at her, unblinking and filled with need.

She leaned towards him so that their noses were only a fraction apart, and moved against him; rolling her hips greedily.

"I'm going to watch you come apart beneath me."

She moaned breathlessly.

"I'm afraid you won't have to wait very long."

He informed her, as he jerked his pelvis upwards to meet her grinding.

She reached down to catch his mouth with her lips, their tongues hungry and fighting each other for dominance. Tangling his long fingers through her silky hair, he pulled on it forcefully as she sucked sensually at his tongue and nipped his bottom lip as she quickened her pace.

They were moving, moving, not fast but with determination, the synchronised connection of two lovers conjoined, moving in perfect rhythm.

They broke for air, her breath now coming in small pants as he touched her ribs and smoothed over her waist, before he slipped his hands under the well-formed mounds of her buttocks, so he could lift her slightly, increasing his leverage.

She yelped, working up to yet another orgasm. Nearing...nearing...as he splayed his long fingers across one of her cheeks, guiding and moving her but following a gentle pace.

"You're handsome."

She proclaimed breathlessly, as she ran her hands up and along his smooth, sweat-slicked chest.

"You're drunk."

He countered, with some effort.

Her movements sped and he plunged into her harder. Each of them bathing their senses in extravagant pleasure until the wild beauty of what they were doing to each other drove them both to a shattering climax.

The quivering wetness that sheathed his length contracted around him as her body convulsed due to her soul consuming orgasm. Stars studded her vision despite her eyes being tightly closed, and the deafening sound of her own heartbeat rang in her ears.

Reaching out, Loki's hands balled into the sheets at his sides as a strangled half-moan half-cry tore from his chest. He felt as if he had shattered into a million pieces as he contorted and writhed aggressively beneath her. The pulsing intensity of his own release almost tore him in two. She felt his liquid heat surge through her throbbing core, and allowed her body to collapse against his in a satisfied heap.

Wrapped in each other's arms, sated and spent, Sif lay entangled in Loki's ludicrously long legs.

The lights had long since gone out, the post-orgasmic euphoria had ebbed away, and the affects of the alcohol had worn off; forcing them back to reality.

In the same bed where once he had not dared to think of the future, where she had watched him sit drinking, not daring to think inappropriate thoughts about him.

Now everything had changed.

His hand drifting slowly over her back, whilst she absentmindedly twirled a lock of his hair between her fingers, both of them attempted to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

But it would be daybreak soon, and she would be missed back at the palace.

Rising slowly in order to dress, she instantly missed the warmth of his embrace.

Sitting up in the bed, he surveyed her with a look of sadness visible in his tired eyes.

Both of them reluctant to say farewell. But neither of them brave enough to admit it.

"How will I get passed the guard?"

She asked instead, feeling incredibly foolish to have previously overlooked this important detail,

"I cannot leave until the barrier is shut off."

"I dare say you'd easily be able to bribe one of them into silence."

He offered with a wry smile,

"Alternatively I could cloak you with an invisibility spell then create a diversion, allowing you to slip out undetected during the confusion."

"Would you not be punished for causing a commotion?"

He shrugged nonchalantly,

"Punishments are so much easier to bear when the crime is worthwhile."

Her eyes snapped to his,

"You would be willing to do that for me?"

"Lady Sif, it would be my..."

He paused momentarily for affect, before adding with a crooked smile,

"...pleasure."

Her pulse quickened involuntarily, and she blushed deeply.

"If you ever speak of this to anyone...I will kill you."

"I don't doubt it."

He chuckled,

"Does that mean you'd be willing to kill the guards as well in order to keep our sordid secret safe?"

"Yes if necessary..."

She responded without hesitation,

"...though I cannot kill them all."

Raising a pointed eyebrow, he looked at her quizzically,

"Why would you need to kill them all? Am I to assume that you'll be returning?"

Raising the hood on her cloak, she shot him a playful smile from beneath it,

"Yes Loki, I shall return."

"So you'll be back for more..."

He wasn't able to bite back the genuine heart stopping smile that lit his face,

"...that's a relief, at first I was inclined to think you intended to kill all of the guards because it rather slipped my mind amidst the excitement last night to cast an illusion to prevent us from being seen."

Her stomach twisted into knots, and he must've registered the violence in her glare as he proceeded to raise his hands in mock surrender,

"Relax Sif, I'm merely toying with you."

Narrowing her eyes, she crossed the room towards him and bent down in order to scan his face for signs of deceit.

"I wish I could trust you."

She remarked sadly,

"'tis hard to believe a word that passes those traitorous lips."

"But you still crave them nonetheless."

And as if to prove his point, he cupped her face gently in his hands and placed the most tenderest of kisses against her full lips.

"Trust my passion."

~ FIN ~


End file.
